Jolene
by Raye Conlon
Summary: Spot falls for a mysterious new newsgirl even though he already has a girlfriend. But this new girl has a secret that could mean the end of Brooklyn- and Spot himself- at the hands of an old and hated rival.
1. Chapter One

Author's Note: This is my new and improved version of my first fanfic, Jolene. I expanded the whole story and there's a lot more dialogue and explanations. Hope you enjoy it! Please Read and Reply! Raye  
  
(1897)  
  
A small crowd of Brooklyn newsies gathered around two boys and watched them fight, cheering one on, and then the other. The smaller of the two boys was quicker and surprisingly stronger than his opponent. "Take it back, Russ!" the boy shouted as he shoved the taller, stockier boy. The other boy, Russ, returned the gesture, and sent the smaller boy to the ground.  
  
"You know I cain't, Dot." Russ said smugly, "Cause it's true. Ain't it boys?" The three boys who stood behind Russ shouted their agreement and Russ turned back to the smaller boy. "See?" his voice was smug and betrayed his too-high opinion of himself.  
  
"Its Spot!" the boy jumped up and slammed himself into Russ. They reeled into the side of a building, and Russ was pinned against the wall by Spot.  
  
"You get this straight y' moron!" Spot growled, "Trey ain't a sissy and he ain't gonna leave Brooklyn to da likes of you. If he leaves it to anybody he's gonna leave it to me 'cause he knows what a stinkin', lousy cheat you really are!"  
  
"You so sure 'bout dat Conlon?" Russ challenged, trying to reassure himself of his superiority.  
  
"Oh yeah I am." Spot replied, "An' don't you forget it."  
  
"Oh I won't. I'll just forget to remember!" Russ started to go for Spot again, but was held back.  
  
"Lemme go!" he shouted furiously. Then he looked up.  
  
"Shut up and cut it out, Russ." Trey said in a "don't mess with me or else" voice. "What's dis about?"  
  
"Shoulda heard 'im." Spot told Trey. "But he can tell y' what he said."  
  
Trey looked at Russ, prompting him to tell. But Russ shook his head and crossed his arms over his thick, barrel-chested frame. "Kick it, guys!" Trey said to the others, "Git outta here!" Turning to Russ, he said, "Includes you, Russ." Russ and his boys stalked off. At 16, Russ was about as immature as they came, but most newsies were scared of him because of his size. Not Conlon though. Spot was a thorn in Russ's side, and Russ didn't mind telling people about it either.  
  
As soon as Russ and his friends were gone, Trey turned to Spot. At 18, he was taller than most of his boys and had a very commanding presence. And even though he was tough when he needed to be, he was well-loved and respected by all the Brooklyn newsies- especially Spot. "Russ causin' trouble?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah. Did a good job of it." Spot replied. He was 15, and though he was small, he was quick and strong. He brushed his fingers along his jaw-line gingerly and winced. "Got me good that time."  
  
"Yeah. Hey Spot, we need to talk about Brooklyn."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm leavin'. Got a job in Queens at a factory. Trouble is, it means leavin' Brooklyn."  
  
"Guess it does."  
  
"I'm leavin' tomorrow, and I'm leavin' you in charge."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yeah. Ya got guts, kid, an' anybody can see dat. So youse in charge." Trey paused and took something from his pocket. Spot recognized it as the bronze key that Trey always wore. "Here. It's yours now." Spot took the key and slipped it's chain around his neck. It made it all real and he quickly took it off.  
  
"I cain't do dis, Trey. I ain't ready."  
  
"Shut up an' put it on. Yeah you're ready. If ya weren't you'd be scared-a Russ an' I know you ain't scared-a him."  
  
Spot slipped the chain back on and the two walked in silence back to the lodging house. Everyone was there when the arrived- including Russ. So, Trey told them what was going on.  
  
"Youse cain't leave!" one of the newsies piped up, "Who's gonna be in charge?" Trey found Russ in the group and looked at him pointedly.  
  
"Spot's da leader." he said, "Respect him as you would me. Follow his lead wid no questions. Ya step outta line and I guarantee dat you'll suffer for it. Any questions?" Not one person in the room spoke, so Trey told them all to get back to what they'd been doing. Then he took Spot aside. "Be careful-a Russ an' his friends." he said, "Dey want nothin' better than ta get youse out. Pick a lieutenant and some backups. Make sure dat they's guys you can trust. Got it?"  
  
"Yeah I got it." Spot replied, "Ya leavin' now?"  
  
"Yeah. Gotta say g'bye to some other people from Manhattan an' East Side. I'm gonna stay da night wid some ol' friends an' go get my apartment tomorrow. It's in Harlem, but I cain't exactly come ta visit. It'd hurt ya rep. You come visit me sometime."  
  
"Sure." Spot nodded. He spit into his right hand and extended it to Trey. They shook and Trey left. Spot went up to the boy's room and moved his stuff into Trey's old room. It was the leader's room, and it was now Spot's. It seemed unreal that Trey was gone, but Spot knew it was when he felt the bronze key around his neck. He tried to get some sleep that night, but it didn't come easily and Spot laid awake long after everyone else was asleep.  
  
Meanwhile, Russ and his friends had left the lodging house. At a local, "late-night" diner, they talked about what had just happened. "Conlon shouldn't be da leader." Russ said as he slammed his empty glass down on the table. "He ain't got da guts."  
  
"Russ we can't do nothin' about it," one of the boys replied, "Conlon's got most of da districts on his side."  
  
"Not if I can help it." Russ said, "Come on. We're goin' to da Bronx."  
  
"What for?"  
  
"We gotta get ourselves a district. Then we'll show Conlon who's boss." 


	2. Chapter Two

(1900)  
  
Three years passed, with both Spot and Russ undergoing many changes in their lives. Russ had worked his way into power in the Bronx- through both murder and persuasion. At 20, he was still a newsie, living from day to day trying to scratch a living out of the streets of New York. He still hated Spot with a passion and avoided Brooklyn at all costs. Except for during the Strike. Not wanting to let Spot Conlon look better than he, Russ joined the strike, but didn't mix with the newsies from Brooklyn. Now there was nothing to keep him from trying to take Brooklyn away from Spot; and that was just what he intended to do. One afternoon, Russ and his three best newsies sat around in the lodging house waiting for everyone else to come back from selling when one of Russ's messengers ran in, completely out of breath.  
  
"Jake went over ta Brooklyn an' they beat him bad." the boy said, gasping for air, "He went to some hospital ta get stiched up."  
  
Russ glared menacingly. He snapped his knife open and shut over and over as the messenger related the whole story. When he was done, Russ stood, shoving his knife into his pocket. "Conlon's gonna pay." he said. He turned to the kid, "Ya done good, now get outta here." The boy left, knowing that Russ was in no mood to argue about it.  
  
"So what are we gonna do?" Fist asked. He was a red-headed Irish immigrant who's temper matched his hair. He took out his knife and played with it almost eagerly.  
  
"We's gonna get Spot Conlon back." Russ replied, "What do y' think?"  
  
"How? Brooklyn's huge." Luis said with a frown, "Sides, Spot's boids are gonna hear bout dis before he does an' tell him." Luis ran a hand through his unruly brown hair as he began to consider how the heck they were going to "get" Spot.  
  
"We gonna attack 'em from all sides?" Steele asked eagerly. He was Fist's best friend and the two had matching tempers.  
  
"No we ain't." Russ said, "Somehow we're gonna find out Spot's weakness an' get him there."  
  
"What weakness?" Luis scoffed. Out of all the newsies from the Bronx, he was the only one who would dare talk back to Russ, but that was because they had been friends forever and Russ usually didn't care what his friend said.  
  
"He's gotta have one!" Fist protested.  
  
"Sure he does." Russ said, "The same one all guys have."  
  
"Girls." Fist and Steele said in unison.  
  
"Girls? Russ, youse gotta stop and think about dis." Luis said in a doubtful tone.  
  
"Why?" Russ asked, "Ain't done me any good. Now listen, we just need a girl who'll go in there an' distract Spot so we can go in an take Brooklyn back."  
  
"Jo'll do it." Fist said, referring to Russ's 17 year old sister, "Ask her."  
  
Russ hesitated. "I dunno. I don' like the idea of Jo bein' used an' abused by those river rats." he said, "Especially if Conlon finds out about who she is."  
  
"So he won't." Steele said with a shrug. "Jo won't let him. She's smarter than that."  
  
"Yeah." Russ was still hesitant. Somehow it didn't seem right to send his sister into Brooklyn and let her be used. But the odds were in her favor that things would be just fine. So Russ yelled for Jo to come downstairs. The young red headed girl came down and the four boys explained what was going on. She didn't hesitate to say yes and as soon as she did, she went upstairs to pack.  
  
Jolene "Jo" Carter was 17 and very well liked among the male newsies in the Bronx. Her charming ways and sassy smile had made her popular, and she well knew her talents. "Who knows?" she told herself, "Winning the heart of the toughest guy in the city could be fun." But Jolene also knew the danger involved. Should Spot find out who she really was, she would be thrown out of Brooklyn, but not before she was beaten and worse. She wasn't worried though, she was convinced that her task would be easy, and over quickly- with no feelings involved at all. This in mind, she and Luis went to Brooklyn to set the stage for the charade. 


	3. Spot

In Brooklyn, Spot Conlon's reaction to the fight was much different than Russ Carter's.  
  
"Ya done good, buddy boys." Spot praised the two triumphant newsies who had taken care of the stray from the Bronx. "Dey won't bothah wid Brooklyn no more."  
  
The newsies standing around shouted their agreements and high-fived each other. Spot frowned and yelled at them over the noise. "Youse actin' like we ain't won a fight before!" he barked, "Now git out dere an' finish sellin'!"  
  
The newsies grumbled, but turned away and went their separate ways to finish selling their papes. Spot turned to the two newsies he'd previously praised and ordered them out too. They obeyed, not wanting to get in a brawl with their leader. Spot Conlon was known for his brutality and his fierce temper. It was also known that he hated Russ Carter and that anyone from the Bronx was beaten up and thrown out of Brooklyn- regardless of why they had come. The older newsies who had been around for the last few years knew about the rivalry with the Bronx, but the younger newsies were kept in the dark about the background of the feud.  
  
Spot turned to the three other newsies who stood behind him. "Inside." he ordered. The four boys went inside the old, rundown building that served as the newsies lodging house and upstairs to the dorm.  
  
"So, what's goin' on wid Carter?" Spot demanded of the others.  
  
"He's gettin' his boys ready for somethin'. Or so we hoid." Jake, a tall, black-haired newsie, said.  
  
"But nobody was sayin' what foah." Tony added. He was just taller than Spot, with brown hair.  
  
"Eithah dey din' know or dey wouldn't say." Riff said, crossing his arms in front of him. He wasn't short, but he was built thick, which made him a scary figure to the younger boys.  
  
"So dat's why youse gotta find out." Spot insisted, his blue eyes growing angry, "We ain't gonna get surprised by anythin'!"  
  
"Spot I don't think dey prob'ly knew." Tony said. Generally soft-spoken, he was Spot's best friend. "Knowin' Russ like we do, I think he's keepin' 'em in da dark."  
  
"Yoah probably right, Tony." Spot replied, "We just gotta be careful. Don't scare anybody, but have da boys stay on dere guard. Riff, git ovah to da harbors and warn them. Tony, git to da Queens border and Jake, go 'round here. Don't say much, da less people know da better. Just have 'em keep an extry lookout foah da Bronx. Got it?" The boys nodded and left, each going to his assigned area. Spot was about to leave too when he was stopped by a voice coming from the door to the girls dorm. "What's going on Spot?" Spot turned towards the voice and smiled when he saw his girl, Sara. She was short; with shoulder-length brown hair and brown eyes. "Nothin's wrong Sara," he replied, his previous harshness melting away, "What makes you think dat dere is?"  
  
"I hoid ya talkin' to da boys. Somethin' 'bout Carter again." Sara told him, not buying the lie her boyfriend had told her.  
  
"Sara, it ain't anythin' ta worry 'bout. It's cool. We's gonna handle it an' you_"  
  
"Stop lyin' to me Spot. I've known you for forevah an' I know you ain't tellin' me da truth." Sara came into the boy's dorm and stood in front of Spot, her arms crossed in front of her chest stubbornly.  
  
Spot hesitated and then sighed, "Carter's makin' trouble. I just want da boys ta be ready, ya know?"  
  
"Spot, why do have to keep fightin' wid Carter? I don' wanna see you get hurt an' I don' wanna hafta watch anybody else get hurt 'cause you won't give it up."  
  
"Listen, Sara, you don' get it. Carter's dangerous ta everybody- includin' you. Dat's why I keep fightin'- ta keep youse an' da othahs safe." Spot opened his arms to Sara, "Come on."  
  
"No." Sara stepped back, her eyes flashing fire.  
  
"What?" Spot dropped his arms and frowned at his girlfriend.  
  
"Spot, you aren't getting' off dat easy. You jus' want a reason ta fight." Sara said, "So no. You don't get anythin' from me." she turned and stalked out of the room. Spot glared at her back and marched downstairs. He stormed outside, furious at Sara. She didn't know anything about this feud with Carter, and she still assumed that she knew it all. What made her think she was so smart anyway? Spot turned a corner, not looking where he was going and he slammed into someone. He fell back against some crates but was able to quickly regain his balance. "Hey what's the big idea?" he demanded as he automatically reached for the slingshot at his belt. but he didn't get farther, because he froze when he saw exactly who he'd run into. 


End file.
